Page 55 of The Temporary Bride

I turn on the burner, heating up the cast-iron skillet. “No.”

Her laugh bubbles out of her like a spring, filling the kitchen with a sudden warmth. Those elusive dimples appear on her cheeks, leaving me momentarily breathless.

Then, immediately, she slaps a hand over her mouth like she didn’t mean to laugh and is trying to silence herself—but amusement still lingers in her eyes as she looks at me.

“Can’t believe you’d admit that,” she teases.

“Well, I’m your husband now.” I layer the strips of bacon into the pan, and the air fills with the sound of sizzling. “I figured you’d find out I’m not a great cook sooner or later. Might as well be upfront about it now.”

“Might as well.” I can hear the smile in her words.

With the bacon cooking, I focus my attention on the avocado toast. I pop four slices of wheat bread into the toaster. “I’m not great at cooking, but it’s something I enjoy, so I’ve been working on getting better. There are still plenty of times when work keeps me too busy to cook, but I don’t have a personal chef like I used to. I prefer to cook for myself when I can.”

She seems a bit impressed by that, her eyes softening as she watches me work. The aroma of toast and bacon fills the air, mingling with the rich scent of brewing coffee.

“Breakfast is served,” I announce several minutes later, sliding a plate across the counter to her.

“Should we eat here, or take it outside?” Chloe asks, gesturing over her shoulder at the glass door to the patio.

“It’s your house too,” I remind her. “Might as well get used to everything it has to offer.”

“Outside it is.”

We sit down to eat, the morning sun casting a golden glow over the spacious veranda that overlooks the vast expanse of the ocean. The sound of waves crashing against the shore provides a soothing backdrop to our meal, and a gentle breeze rustles through the palm trees that line the property.

As we eat, Chloe breaks the silence with a question. “What else do you like to do for fun?” she asks, her gaze curious. She lifts her mug to sip her coffee, her eyes never leaving me.

“I surf when I can,” I say. “It’s sort of my way of relaxing and getting away from it all.”

“I always wanted to try surfing,” she admits, her gaze moving to the restless ocean.

“So why haven’t you?”

She shrugs one shoulder. “Scared, I suppose.”

I look at her profile against the water, the morning light brightening her hair. “It doesn’t have to be scary. It’s mostly just about learning to read the water, figuring out what it’s going to do before it does it. I could teach you, if you want.”

She glances at me sideways, trapping her lower lip between her teeth. “Maybe.”

Silence settles between us as we eat our toast and bacon. Once the food is gone and we’re just enjoying the view, I turn toward Chloe.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“How long have you had hearing loss?”

I notice a subtle shift in her demeanor as my question registers. Her eyes widen ever so slightly, a flicker of something like fear passing fleetingly across her features. She starts to shake her head, then hesitates, her throat working as she seems to come to the realization that there’s no point in pretending.

“It started several years ago,” she admits quietly. “I have AIED—autoimmune inner ear disease. It started out mild, but over time, it’s led to pretty much complete deafness on my left side.”

I nod in understanding, careful not to betray any hint of pity in my expression. I’ve learned enough about Chloe to understand that she wouldn’t want that, especially not from me.

“You hide it well,” I tell her.

“I’ve learned ways to cope with it over the years. I’m… I’m surprised you figured it out. People usually don’t notice.”

People may not typically notice the subtleties of her condition, but I’m not like most people. I notice everything about her—her expressions, her movements, the way she carries herself. I don’t say that out loud, though.